


I was floating dead above myself

by jperalta



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Whump, Friendship, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Male Friendship, Men Crying, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:40:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jperalta/pseuds/jperalta
Summary: Cory's been anxious for as long as he can remember. He tries to hide his panic attacks, but this time Shawn's right there in the room with him while it's happening.
Relationships: Shawn Hunter/Cory Matthews
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	I was floating dead above myself

"You're gonna be fine, Cor. You don't have anything to worry about." Shawn said as he bowed his head and picked at his fingernails. He sat on a chair across from where Cory was on his bed. But Cory wasn't entirely listening anymore – he was too busy worrying about it anyway. 

Shawn was helping Cory study for a big exam he had to take in a few days. Cory had gotten 90% of the study questions right, but those ones that eluded him were making him feel so horrible. Shawn's words rung in Cory's head – _"nothing to worry about"_ – and he almost laughed. There were so many times he'd panicked so severely over "nothing." It was just the way his brain worked, the way he was wired. His face started to close up as he turned his face away. 

He couldn't recount the number of times he'd had to excuse himself from class, or dinner, or wherever he was, in order to hide away in the bathroom or tuck himself into a closet – grabbing at his heart, pushing tears out of his eyes, trying to regain his breath. But it never seemed to work, and the panic always lasted for what felt like hours. Sometimes he'd have to go to a toilet and throw up because all this anxiety and heartache and worry and _dread_ was swirling around in his stomach and he just couldn't take it. Sometimes he'd fall to his knees and push himself into a corner, only able to repeat to himself _"oh my god oh my god oh my god."_

And then it was happening again – that feeling that destroyed him so often. It started with his chest caving in all at once. He let out a whimper, an almost silent _"shit"_ as he took in an incredibly deep breath. 

"Cor?" Shawn asked quietly, looking up from his own homework. 

He cast a concerned glance, but Cory didn't see because he was too preoccupied with staring at his hands. His fingers were trembling, essentially twitching. And God, it felt like there was a current of electricity being pumped through his head. Cory clenched and unclenched his fists multiple times, whispering _"breathe, breathe"_ to himself, but it wasn't working. So then he started hyperventilating, sucking in quick, fragmented, meaningless bursts of air that seemed to hurt more than anything else. 

"Cory?" Shawn tried again, standing from his chair then kneeling on the floor next to Cory. "Hey, what's going on?" He asked, trying to sound as gentle as he could. 

Cory tossed his head into his hands and drew his legs in close as only the bad thoughts flew through his mind. He thought of Shawn, how much he worried that their friendship wouldn't always stay this strong. He thought of the exam, if he'd fail it and what that'd ultimately mean for his future. Then he thought of his parents, how they were getting older, how friends his age had had their parents die already, and how broken he knew he'd be when that finally happened. And of course there was the constant fear that Topanga would get sick of him, or realize how much of a nervous wreck he seemed to be all the time, and just leave – no matter how many times she reminded him she'd always be there, no matter how many kisses she put on his forehead while whispering that she loved him. It was like there was something inside of him – curled around his heart, around his lungs, stripping him of everything he needed to breathe, to live, to feel anything at all that wasn't _panic_. 

When Shawn grabbed Cory's shoulder, Cory flinched hard then looked up to see Shawn. Looking at him was at least a bit helpful, even though the persistent feeling of guilt was ringing in his ears. His presence was something to cling to. "Shawn," he breathed out, as if acknowledging that he was still there. 

"What's going on, bud?" Shawn said as he gently squeezed Cory's arm. "Talk to me." 

Cory looked into Shawn's eyes and could nearly see himself reflected in them, practically curled up into a ball and freaking out again like an _idiot_. He looked away, back down at his own hands which were still quivering. He squeezed them tight, felt his nails press into his palms and if Shawn wasn't there he probably would have kept pushing until he drew blood. Shawn moved a hand to one of Cory's, as if sensing what Cory was thinking. It just made Cory cry harder. 

Cory took in a deep breath and coughed, his mouth dry from the anxiety. He swallowed a few times. "I... I don't _know_ ," Cory let out with a sob. It was pathetic but it was the truth. "I don't know what's wrong with me." He felt Shawn squeeze his hand and Cory squeezed back. "This just... it happens – sometimes. More than sometimes, I don't know. And I just... I just..." – a sharp pain hit right in the center of his chest that made him cry out again – "I can't take it." It was like his entire body was crying now and all he could do was shake and let it happen. "I'm so scared," he whispered with a shattered voice. "Shawn, I... I'm... I _can't_ \--" 

Shawn jumped up onto the bed, sat right next to Cory. "C'mere," he said, pulling Cory's body in close. Cory let his body fall and rested his head on Shawn's chest as Shawn held Cory as tightly as he could, while Cory just shook in his arms. "It's okay, Cor, I'm right here." 

Cory wiped his nose on his sleeve, unable to stop it – again. He felt like he was bracing for his death. And he thought of how he must seem to Shawn, just totally losing it over... over... what was it, again? "I'm sorry," he muttered. "God, I'm so sorry." It was like he couldn't remember the last time he felt okay, that this was his eternity now. 

Shawn squeezed Cory's shoulder, rubbed his thumb back and forth over Cory's collarbone. "You don't have to be sorry," Shawn whispered tenderly into Cory's ear. "You don't have to apologize for this. I get it. I'm here. It'll be okay." Cory's body was all but convulsing as he breathed and cried softly into Shawn's shirt. "Just get through it, Cor. I know you can." 

Cory wasn't so sure but it was comforting to know that Shawn thought so. Cory should have known, since he'd gotten through it however many times before. But when he was all caught up in the height of it, it felt neverending. It felt like it was never going to go away. All he could do was keep breathing and focus on the feeling of Shawn's fingers rubbing against him, as he curled in on himself tighter and pushed himself further into Shawn's lap, into his crescent body engulfed him and he could feel safe. 

*** 

A bit later, after it all had passed, Cory sat up and leaned away from Shawn. He frantically wiped the tears off his face and wiped his nose, then he let himself look up to Shawn. When he saw the concerned look on his face, he had to look away. "I'm sor--" 

"You _don't_ have to be sorry." 

The two looked at each other, an odd sort of understanding hanging between them. Cory nodded and wiped his face again. For the first time in about half an hour, he was able to take in a deep breath that actually left his lungs feeling satisfied. 

"This happens a lot?" Shawn asked. 

Cory frowned and scratched at a cut on his hand. He wanted to say yes, almost every day now, I feel like I'm drowning, but he didn't say anything – just nodded again as a few more tears fell and he wiped them away, frustrated. 

Shawn took in a deep breath of his own. "Why didn't I know?" His voice was shaking. He asked it in a way that suggested he was far more ashamed of himself for not knowing, for not noticing, than he was surprised at Cory for not telling him in the first place. 

Cory's heart rate was still high – would it always be this high? "Shawn," he repositioned himself on the bed. "I haven't told _anyone_. I hide it – all the time." 

"You haven't told Topanga? Your parents?" Cory shook his head as if the very idea of doing that, of telling the people he loved that he was falling apart at the seams, was horrifying. "You gotta tell them, Cory." Shawn said, making it clear that it wasn't a question, it wasn't an option. "You can't go on like this. You need help." 

Cory took in a few deep breaths and could feel the panic rising again. Shawn reached out to Cory's hand and squeezed it tight. Cory exhaled. 

"I can help you – if you want. You have nothing to be ashamed of," Shawn continued. "We love you. We want to help." 

Cory looked up at Shawn again and could see he meant it, that he wasn't going anywhere, that he wanted to help. "Okay," Cory breathed. "Okay, I – we... we'll tell them." 

Shawn gave a smile that Cory reciprocated and said, "It's going to be okay." 

**Author's Note:**

> If Jess (me) watches a TV show and doesn't write a panic attack/comfort fic, did she really watch the show?  
> Title: Get Out - Frightened Rabbit


End file.
